In this week’s parsha we learn of the Torah’s high regard for “strangers” or “ger.” Most often, these terms are referred to as meaning a Jewish convert who is living with the Israelite tribe. The particular verse is Leviticus 19:34, “The strangers who reside with you as your citizens; you shall love each one as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” So what is the status of a Jewish convert and how should we, as modern Jews, interpret this instruction?

As we all know, Judaism is not a proselytizing religion – at least not now. There was a time when Judaism actively sought converts, but that changed with outside persecution. Nonetheless, the Torah holds very high esteem for sincere converts and commands that they be treated as equals. Equality is a very important concept in the Torah and it applied to all “strangers.” Knowing the importance of self interest in all human beings a command to love someone as “yourself” cannot be more equal.

Jews are commanded to love G-d, but G-d loves the convert. This implies a different status for the convert than that of born Jews – at least in G-d’s eyes. The argument may be made that converts have better status as Jews than those who are born Jewish since it is the convert who is loved by G-d. Let’s not go there, but consider that modern Jewish converts are just as equal to be called Jews as any other Jew no matter how defined.

Love the convert, but once they become a Jew, they are to be considered 100% the equal of any other Jew.

Many of my friends struggle with this week’s Torah portion because of one line:

And a man who lies with a male as one would with a woman both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon themselves (Lev. 20:13).

It’s interesting to note that none of my friends are having theological problems with wearing blue jeans (Lev. 19:19), falsifying weights and measures (Lev. 19:35) or cussing out their mothers and fathers (Lev. 20:9).

I support gay rights. I have tattoos. I’m not on an epic quest to vandalize my local Buddhist monastery a la Abraham’s idol smashing and I’m freaked out by any attempt to create a new Sanhedrin in Israel (or anywhere for that matter). That puts me in a certain camp of Jewish thinking that, at times, is referred to as Cafeteria Religion: someone who shamelessly picks-and-chooses what they want out of religion.

The tricky thing is that it is just so easy to pick and choose, when the Torah gives us so many options.

For example,holiness is not just a matter of following rules. It’s also a matter of having a pure heart, as the Torah tells us in this same portion:

Thou shalt not oppress thy neighbour…Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling-block before the blind…Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart…thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself…if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not do him wrong…thou shalt love him as thyself; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt (Lev 19:13-34).

It begs the questions: why do we struggle with one line of Torah about a sexual act, but don’t seem to be freaked out at all by the idea that we have to be one hundred percent selfless, loving all people as we love ourselves, treating everyone equally and never doing any harm to anyone, ever?

I think the answer is pretty clear. The texts in Kedoshim which admonish what we think of as “homosexual” are texts to us, about the other. Those texts are about how others should live, and what our response to that should be. The loving texts of this same Torah portion speak to how we should treat others regardless of who they are. That’s a text that is completely about us.

It is easier to rally around an ideology that turns people into “its”, rather than an ideology that forces us to turn “its” into people.

In Acharei, hangin’ out with the heathen hoards runs the people afoul in this week’s haftorah, a similar theme to the parsha as a whole, during which the people are warned against bringing animal offerings anywhere but in the Temple, the consumption of blood, and enumerates a number of forbidden interpersonal relations. Amos delivers the warning that the Northern kingdom of Israel is doomed for destruction, but that eventually, the Jewish people will be redeemed and “mountains shall drip sweet wine” and that the people will be allowed to return to the desolate cities.
Similarly, in Kedoshim, through Ezekiel, the people are chastised for not keeping Shabbat holy and again, seem to have a recurring problem with idol worship.

It’s difficult indeed to keep one’s bearings when examining the haftorah, and this week’s pairings illustrate that beautifully. Because the portions were chosen to correspond with the general theme of the parshot, rather than [Read more…]

Double Torah portions are awesome, because you get a buffet of Jewish goodness all in one week. It’s also a little daunting — so many options, you don’t know where to start.

The Truth About…’s/Flickr Creative Commons

There’s some cool stuff in here (not hurting your neighbor), some not-so-good-stuff (the whole homosexuality bit), and some downright odd stuff, like the prohibition against shatnez. No matter where you find yourself on the spectrum of Jewish identity, Acharei Kedoshim is going to speak to you in some way or another.

(This week is a double portion, so Patrick and Michael each took on a portion for your education and enlightenment!)

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQYJNP1y8rU

Parshah Acharei

Parshah Acharei rewinds back to the death of Aaron’s sons. In an earlier Torah portion, the brothers are seen going into the Mishkan with a “strange fire”. G-d then decides to burn them alive with the holy fire. Gross.

The reason for the death of Aaron’s sons is usually interpreted to be alcoholism and the fact that their sacrifice was incorrect. It’s like getting drunk and forgetting your girlfriend’s birthday, so you run to Wal-Mart and carelessly get her something she doesn’t want and she gets angry at you for acting like an idiot.

But it never says that Aaron’s sons were bad guys or that their offering was bad…it just wasn’t what G-d was asking for, and they were consumed by the fire. There’s a midrash that says Aaron’s sons were so pure and holy, that what they brought to the Mishkan was so great, that they were consumed by holy fire and became a part of G-d’s energy. How cool is that?

Regardless, Parshah Acharei is the aftermath. It’s where Moses teaches rules about atonement, sexuality, diet and more. The idea is that the death of Aaron’s sons was so tragic, that more rules had to be put into place to make sure people really understood what was going down in the Tent of Meeting.

People tend to look at this parshah as authoritarian: you screw up, so G-d makes rules for you to follow. I just wonder if its the opposite. Could it be that Aaron’s sons got to connect with G-d in a way that was actually more powerful than anything that the Hebrews had ever seen, and that G-d and Moses knew that the Hebrews would say, “wait, how come I don’t get to be consumed by G-d’s fire and commune with the Creator of the Universe? What makes Aaron’s drunk kids so special?”

So G-d makes some rules for the Hebrews to follow, so they can feel special. “Don’t worry,” G-d is saying, “follow these rules and you can enjoy the Mishkan in your own miraculous way.”

Parshah Kedoshim

The double portion this week is balancing act, a presentation that shows us that there are two natures to the commandments G-d has given us. In the first portion Acharei, G-d lays down the law. He gives us the ethical part, the social part, the commandments that are to be a guide to our interactions with others. In the second part, Kedoshim, G-d gives us the spirit of the law.

The core of Kedoshim is the marriage of ritual and ethics. Kedoshim is the “source code for holiness”. It is a breakdown and explanation in detail of the code that makes up what we, as Jews, have to do to be holy. At the beginning, G-d tells us “You shall be holy, for I, G-d your G-d, am holy”. How do we do this? G-d has told us.

You cannot be whole, or holy, if you are not full, and the only way to be full is to be a participant in both the worlds of ritual and ethics. In fact, the commandments are a mix of ethical and religious injunctions, the ethical and social ones guiding our interactions with others, and religious mitzvot detailing the fulfillment of ritual aspects of Judaism. One without the other doesn’t work. You have heartless ethics and wishy-washy, ethereal ritual that isn’t grounded in the human condition.

As the Rabbi Moses ben Nachman (Ramban) puts it, “holiness is not limited to the observance of any particular category of commandments”. You can follow all of the mitzvot, and still be what he calls “a degenerate with the permission of the Torah”! The point is that without love, without spirit, you cannot fulfill a mitzvah, you cannot be whole, or holy. G-d demands more than the letter of the law. He demands that we be holy as He is holy, and He tells us that here.